To Who We Are
by ShockValueAuthor
Summary: With a new outlook on the world and herself, Lara Croft comes to face the myths she now believes may hold more than previously thought. But when she encounters both a force to reckon with and a harsh reminder of the path she had to take to survive, it makes for a harrowing journey. Encountering things unexplained and people with a less than admirable position, how will she endure?
1. Preface

**Preface:**

It has been some time since I have dared hold a pen, or type on a keyboard. I couldn't say why for certain. The story you are about to read I trust will have some entertainment value. That is all I could ever hope for.

I have always harbored an admiration for the character known as Lara Croft. Even as a child I enjoyed the Tomb Raider series, never ceasing to smile at Lara's antics. Come 2013, a new Croft has arrived. I find this reboot to be a welcome challenge in regard to writing; this is not the fictional woman I grew up with, so to speak. It is in my opinion that the two can never be truly compared, apart from differences. But as entrancing as the infallible 90's icon will always be (and her adventures onward), this new vision gives light to the transformation possible within us all.

More recently I have discovered the Uncharted series, and indeed find myself enjoying the adventures of Nathan Drake and his friends. I am disappointed at the lack of crossover stories here, as I find the potential quite deep. Thus, I hereby contribute. With that I close these words to allow the story to unfold, save for this:

_To endure hardship is never easy, and certainly there are some who will never feel its crushing grasp, or its numbing aftermath. But those who would persevere and remain true to themselves are a rare breed, who will always commend my respect. Of course fantasy is never quite like reality. But reality has to inspire even the most outrageous dreams, if only in the smallest way. _

_To the horrors in the world of today, which indeed shape fiction… To the designs of those who dare to dream, which show creativity holds no bounds._

**ShockValueAuthor**


	2. Chapter One

Late autumn was pleasant. Leaves of rich gold and lush auburn swirled throughout balmy gusts, beautiful yet a pointed reminder of winters approaching assault. The sky held a brilliant blue, clouds faint whispers of vapor.

Lara lay there on the ground, eyes fixed on the sparse scape of the sky above her. A few tattered journals adorned the grass around her, the breeze lazily flipping pages. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, hands toying with the rough sward beside her.

Upon her return home, there had been many adjustments. Even before her return there were decisions made… decisions she had to make.

Yamatai had been both a blessing and a curse. She could see that now, certainly not before. The sacrifice of those she set off with would forever haunt her, but it would not break her. Though a horror indeed, the immense fountain of knowledge Lara had gained through the misfortune of the Endurance and its lost crew had changed her. She came into her own, to survive.

To survive.

"_I don't think I can do this."_

"_Sure you can. You're a Croft, after all."_

Lara shut her eyes slowly, keeping her breathing even. Given the circumstances, she felt she was handling herself rather well now. Just over a year after the ordeal, and she could even sleep through most nights.

She saw a physician once their rescuers docked at the next port; it was insisted that they all did. Both she and Sam remained hospitalized for a few days after, Reyes and Jonah with little besides scrapes. Lara stitched and watched for signs of severe infection, Sam exhausted and dehydrated. Resting, watching one another with half-lidded eyes.

"…_You look like a rag doll I had in the third grade." Sam smiled half-heartedly._

Lara's left hand went to her right shoulder, running her hand down until reaching the faintest feel of a scar.

"_I'm just glad I still have my arm." Lara said lightly, gingerly moving her arm. She smiled at Sam reassuringly. "It doesn't hurt."_

_Sam made a genuine snort of laughter. "Morphine. It's the shit."_

So many questions had been asked those next few days. Questions, assumptions, accusations… So many people talking about what they couldn't possibly know. Eventually the reporters were shut out. In time the authorities grew disinterested. Historians bombarded them all for information, worse than the reporters. Lara had been saddened not to share their entire experience, horrifying as it was, but no one would think them sane if they knew. It was agreed before they even touched soil not to share a word on the specifics of Yamatai. More pointedly, the mysticism surrounding the place. They kept their stories short. Hostile weather and men stranded from years passed plagued the island like a sickness. That was bad enough and anything more would likely be considered ravings of lunacy.

"_How do you explain your escape?"_

_Sam shrugged. "We just… we must have gotten lucky. A break in the storm."_

_The reporter was smug. "I've never heard of a break in those storms near the Dragon's Triangle." _

_Reyes' eyes narrowed. "And I bet you're so green you never heard of it until a month ago."_

Lara felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. She never fully appreciated Reyes' short demeanor until after all the trouble. It certainly gained them some peace.

Over a year and these memories as fresh as the day they happened. To no surprise of course. But to feel as hardened as she felt now, only to feel a wave of weakness when remembering just how much a struggle they endured. A psychologist was an option Lara did not favor, but obligingly visited for three months as a favor to Sam. Three months of revisiting the things she had to do, the people she had to lose, the people she had to kill. And it sickened her. Eventually she kept to herself, reclusive in her estates in Abingdon. She hadn't talked to any of them since; almost ten months of books and thoughts, plans to go out and see the world for what it might be… But no interaction, save for the family housekeeper, Winston. While supportive, she was thankful for his remarkable talent for leaving her be when she desired it. She assumed he perfected this art with her father.

She was thinking frequently of him as well. And Roth. They were close, and the memory of Roth's final act was one of the things that did rob Lara of sleep. That and how much she wished she should have really listened to what her father said over the years.

Was it healthy? Probably not. But if only a little, it made her feel in control. However a growing feeling of restlessness was knotting itself into Lara's stomach.

Opening her eyes, she sat up, head tilted to the sky. She could hear the leaves tumbling along the stone walkway not far from where she sat. Book after book, journal after journal… She could feel an increasing distaste in how stationary her life had become.

Maybe, just maybe… It was time to do something about it.


	3. Chapter Two

The streets of London were unusually quiet. As the sun began to dip under the horizon, lamps flickered on in the growing dusk. Pedestrians carried on to their destinations quickly, feeling the chill of the evening advancing. The sky was blooming with color; a tantalizing array of orange and gold slowly giving way to the deep hues of night as the sun finally set. What was in the earlier hours a mild wind was turning brisk. Winter was definitely coming.

Two men stood by an old building, closed off for renovation. One was older, the other considerably younger. The latter gave the feel of a cocky sort; back and boot against a weathered wall, leaning slightly with an almost bored expression. The older gentleman noted this look with a chuckle, striking a match to light the cigar hanging from his mouth. As the streets grew more desolate their conversation picked back up.

"I still don't see why you wanted to come here," The young man mused. "I told you what I needed, and this is sort of in the completely wrong direction."

"Nate," The man said around his cigar, "If we did absolutely everything your way, we'd have been dead already."

He waved a hand dismissively, "Nah... Sully, I keep telling ya, you've got to have a little faith."

"I've got faith that you're goddamn lucky."

"Well, there's that too." Nate said with a grin. His hand went to the cord around his neck, fingers toying with the silver ring knotted to the twine. "Luck's a good thing to have."

Sully flicked the ash off his cigar. "Missing her already, huh?"

Nate looked down at his hand with a smile. "Guess so. Traded one ring for the other, never thought that would happen…"

"It certainly hasn't made you a homebody."

He snorted. "Ha, Elena neither. I'm glad her boss wanted her on some new assignment. I know she wanted to be involved, but I told her it was too risky."

Sully cocked an eyebrow. "And since when does she listen to you?"

"Well she's not here, is she?" Nate retorted.

Sully said nothing to this immediately, which made Nate recap is previous conversation with her.

"_If you're going somewhere, I want to too."_

"_Elena, come on," Nate leaned back in his chair tiredly. "We nearly lost our heads getting out of there, and I'm not putting you back in that kind of situation."_

_Her voice was scathing. "As I recall that wouldn't be the first time."_

"_That doesn't mean I want to retry!" He protested, standing up and pointing to himself. "I don't know about you, but I happen to like my head!"_

"_It's doesn't seem to be doing you much good right now…"_

"_Oh ha ha."_

_Elena's hands sat on her hips, eyes studying Nate wordlessly. When she spoke again she was patronizing. "You know you're going to need me."_

"_Look, if I need you, I will call you." At her disbelieving look he smiled. "Really."_

"_Whatever Nate. If I didn't have a ton of research to do right now I'd fight you more on this." She walked up to him, grasping his biceps lightly. "Just… be careful, okay? You and Sully."_

"_We will, Elena." He leaned down slightly to kiss her forehead. "I promise."_

Nate turned his head slowly in Sully's direction. "She's the one meeting us here, isn't she?"

"No."

"Oh sure, I believe that." He shook his head angrily. "She couldn't just let it go, and you- you just let her win you over. Again."

"Now hold on, she's not." Sully threw an arm up in protest, the other tossing away his cigar stub. "Now I admit this contact is through her, but she promised she wouldn't get any more involved than that."

"Okay, okay. First of all," Nate stood straight, fully turning to Sully in irritation, "She never means that. Ever! Never ever. Second, this means she knows what we're doing."

"Kid, _I_ don't even know what we're doing. You still haven't given me a full explanation."

"Then what does she know?" Nate asked cautiously.

Sully sighed. "I had another contact. They bowed out at the last minute. Involuntarily, I might add." He glanced at his watch, looking back at Nate. "So I called her. Look, before you get all mad, I don't want her involved in any of our shenanigans either. I just didn't have enough to go on based on what you told me. So I asked her to set up a meeting with someone we might be able to requisition a plane from." His eyes narrowed slightly. "That aside you still owe me some answers."

The paper aforementioned had been torn from the hands of a long forgotten silk trader, and after that the tent of a rebelling group in the wilds of Thailand. The latter part had ended up quite difficult, almost resulting in his and Elena's death, had the opposing party not attacked and caused a distraction

"Okay." Nate rubbed a hand over his face. "Are you familiar with the Ramayana?"

"The Hindu epic? Sure, I've heard of it. Never known it to perk your interest, Nate."

"I know. I went with Elena to Thailand; she was doing a documentary about the struggle of the local guerillas in some remote part of the country. Everything was fine until the encampment we were at found something." He started toying with the ring again. "They brought a large roll of cloth back from the jungle, and later Elena and I found out there were remains inside."

Sully's nose crinkled in response. "Their doing or someone else's?"

"Someone else for sure, what was left of the bones was very old. I didn't get the chance to see where they found them, but they put it in a tent. Seems once they looked more closely everything got intense. Elena asked what it was at first and they got very defensive, treating us like we were spies." He sighed. "We ended up tied to a post on the outskirt of their camp, and the entire time I knew I had to look."

"Naturally." Sully nodded for Nate to continue.

"We got loose, and I convinced her to give me a moment to try and see what they found. I thought she made it further than she did…" He shook his head. "When I did manage to sneak in, there were papers, cloth, bones… just scattered in this tent, as if they were looking for something. There were papers I recognized as a trader's journal and a few excerpts of the Ramayana. I could tell from a few sketches." Nate reached into his back pocket, pulling out a piece of paper. Unfolding it he continued. "After we were caught, then the chaos after, I managed to snag a few papers. None of them had anything of real interest… save for one. I had the whole page translated." He flicked the paper in his hand with his finger, looking around to ensure the street was quiet. "Ready for this?"

"Yeah, get on with it."

"Listen to this. 'It was no greater horror than being lost, I thought. We stumbled upon the grove shrouded by the dark. We found the way we never could have seen. We will have no chance to leave. Vishnu guide us away from Bhogavati.'"

Sully's expression was quizzical. "Isn't that a mythical place?"

"That's just it. Bhogavati is considered the lowest city of the patala, the netherworld of Hindu mythology. You would think something would have been mentioned of the other six…"

"Well, maybe there was on the papers you couldn't snag. But what about this makes you so gun ho?"

Nate smiled. "This is an excerpt from the Ramayana. 'Next you will see Kunjar Parvat. Here Vishwakarmaa built a place for Agastya Muni. This place is one yojan wide and 10 yojan high. Here there is Bhogavati city where snakes live, that is why it is impossible for human beings to go there. Here lives the king of snakes - Vasuki Naga. Many terrific snakes guard him. This place is studded in numerous gem stones. Go in this place very carefully and search for Sita.'"

Sully's mouth curled into a smile. "Studded in gemstones, huh? That would be a pretty penny indeed." The smile fell slightly. "I could do without the snake idea. Got to tell you though, most of what you said does not ring a bell to me."

"Think of the snakes as embellished. I'm going to." He said distractedly. "Well, there's one thing you ought to know. Do you know what a yojan is?"

"Measurement, I'd guess."

"You bet. One yojan is somewhere between five and eight miles, Sully. Can you imagine the amount of gems we could snag? Hell, the size of them alone might just make one worth our time!"

"Easy now, Nate. This is still something with a lot of potential for trouble. Most of which is going to be the people you pissed off. And I'm willing to bet they've probably got a better idea where to start."

Their conversation ceased when a man caught their eye, walking slowly towards them not far away. Sully checked his watch again, muttering an incoherent curse. "Better late than never I guess." He eyed Nate with a grin. "We'll look further into this. In the meantime, keep that paper in your pocket, huh?"

"Sure thing. Really think this might pan out too?"

"I'm hoping so. My tabs are stacking up, kid."

The contact simply gave them an address and walked off. Once he disappeared from sight they meandered off the street and down an alley, stopping at the door of a tavern. Nate motioned to open the door when Sully clapped a hand to his shoulder. "Hey, you're putting that away, remember? Hope you're not that careless if we do this; don't need your jungle buddies catching wind."

Nate stuffed the paper back into his pocket with a smirk. "Won't matter if we figure this out before they do."


	4. Chapter Three

Croft Manor cast a long shadow this evening. The moon stood high in the sky, looking over the grounds through dark clouds. What light filtered past the vapor welcomed its way into windows, illuminating the splendors within. Moonlight danced across ornate rugs and warm stone, polished wood and antiques. The air was still throughout the halls, every room quiet save for one.

Lara sat at the desk in her library, wordlessly pawing through the muddle of books she had brought down from numerous shelves. Several had notes sticking out, others cast away towards a small book cart. A globe on the corner held many pins, tabs attached while a laptop nearby sat running updates.

Leaning back in her chair she sighed. Several tomes had perked her interest, and it didn't seem possible to just pick one. This wasn't the time to bite off more than she could chew, certainly. The open pages before her were wonderful explanations of Croatian myths, the book underneath a fascinating collection of South American folklore. "What to do, what to do…" She muttered.

A soft knock on the door was a welcomed distraction. "Come in."

Winston came in slowly, a tray of cups and a teapot in his hands. Lara caught the faint aroma of bergamot. "I thought perhaps you would care for a nightcap?"

Lara stood, smiling while moving a few books from her desk. "That would be wonderful, Winston."

He motioned for her to stop. "Now, no need to disturb your work area, Lady Croft." He chuckled when she wrinkled her nose at the title. "There is room plenty on the table in the upper office."

Briefly Lara felt an urge to object, but reconsidered. She had spent countless hours at the same damn desk, milling through text after text. Any longer and she pondered if her eyes would cross.

"Thinking I should take a break?" She said. Looking up she spoke warmly, "Perhaps it would be a good idea. Care to join me?"

"I would be delighted. Shall I prepare?"

"Sure. I'll be up in a minute."

He turned, taking the stairs to the top floor of the library. After piling a few papers together in a last ditch effort to organize, Lara jogged up the steps to the landing, walking along the path overlooking the library until at its end. At the end of the walk a doorway opened to another work space; two walls covered in books and a roaring fireplace on the farthest wall that Winston had just brought to life. An elaborate Persian rug reached corner to corner, topped only by the rich wooden paneling of the walls and the ornate carved scroll on the desk within. Winston stooped over a low coffee table, humming to himself whilst pouring out two mugs of tea. Lara walked over to the three rectangular windows to her right, looking out to the garden she had turned into a regular haunt. She rested a palm on the glass of the first window, those cold hands of night chilling the windowpane. Turning her head she watched Winston as he set the table; she was pleasantly surprised to see a small plate of shortbread cookies and a little saucer of lemon wedges. He certainly never disappointed.

Once he was done, Lara sat in a plush chair to the left of the fire, himself in the chair on the right. The crackling of fire and faint clinking of china were all that resounded through the room. Lara sipped her tea slowly, enjoying the warmth of the fire while eyeing the numerous books on the wall before her. Winston noted her expression and chuckled.

"Your father was always the collector. As I recall he had this room stockpiled with volumes for two years; before the final restorations of the library, of course."

"Wouldn't surprise me." Lara said lightly. "If only the library was meriting an easier time for me."

Winston made a nod of agreement. "It is certainly an overwhelming amount of knowledge within these walls. But you've known that since you were a little girl."

Lara's hand found a shortbread. "I suppose I didn't have as much appreciation of that fact until now."

He waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, posh. You've always been very mindful of the world around you, Lara. I daresay your father would agree."

Suddenly Lara felt very tired. "There's a lot I wish I could have asked him."

"I imagine you will always feel that way, as we all do at some point in our lives." Winston sat his cup down after a hearty nip. "But while in the past may lie regret, it's best to live with none."

She blinked at him. "That's quite pensive."

"And it is true."

Lara eyed him curiously. "How do you know?"

"When you become my age, I assure you… Time is a fair teacher."

She let out a short laugh. "Yes, I suppose it would be."

The fire spurred a sharp crack, flames eating away at the wood. Winston stood, poking at the logs until satisfied. As he sat back down Lara spoke.

"Do you think he would have supported me doing this?"

"Truly, I can't say you've told me what it is you're doing." He said, amused.

"Oh." She took a nibble of her cookie. "In light of… past circumstances, I've been looking about for myths that strike me as potentially true."

His voice showed concern. "Are you certain that is something you want to encounter? Again, I might add?"

After she ate the cookie, she sighed. Her voice was firm. "It's just something I know I have to do."

"I hope no one has shanghaied you into that thought, Lara." Winston said dryly. He held a hand up. "I apologize."

"No, no. I do welcome your opinion." Lara said softly. "But you must understand. I feel like I gained something on that island, even through all the loss." Roth came to mind first, and she shook her head. "I don't know. And I have to know if other places hold any truth. I have to know."

"You sound just like your father. Very ambitious."

"After Yamatai… I just know that he was right, Winston. He always used to say that myths are often based on some form of truth."

"What do you think he was on to?"

"I don't know." Lara stated flatly. "I think I'm stuck."

"Are you looking for somewhere in particular?"

"Yes and no. I'm looking for places he visited, which could be about anywhere. On the flipside, I'm looking for any correlation between certain spots and notes he'd taken. Hoping he found something that might put me on the right direction."

Winston regarded Lara with warmth. "You want to prove him right, don't you?"

"Well, yeah. But it's more than that. I want to prove that history isn't just old ruins and forgotten culture. I know that the potential for disaster is out there; I certainly witnessed it. But I intend to find out firsthand." Lara took another sip. "I'm not losing it, Winston. Though, if I don't do this, I feel like I might." She smiled sheepishly. "I'm going absolutely stir-crazy."

"You certainly have my support, should you need it."

"I know. Thank you."

With that, Winston stood and began to clear the table. As he did, Lara let her mind wander, gazing at the volumes decorating the walls. Vaguely she wondered if her father would have had a set location in mind already. _'Of course.' _She inwardly sighed, bringing her drink to her lips. _'All of these journals and books, there are bound to be a few….'_ Abruptly she halted the cup before it touched her mouth. "Bound to be a few…" She murmured.

"I beg your pardon?"

She sat the teacup down, turning to Winston in excitement. "Dad, did he… Well, I know he kept journals. But did he ever mention a particular collection? Maybe future travels, revisits?"

Winston looked up from the serving tray. "If memory serves, he had a specific array of journals whose contents I never knew of." He smiled knowingly. "Then again, a vast majority of Lord Croft's works never came past my eyes. It would have been improper."

Lara let out a laugh. "I'm certain he shared some with you."

"Oh, that he did." Winston said. "But I cannot say I recall seeing any of his work regarding future plans. Certainly not in plain view, at the least."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Do you know where might be best to look?"

"Hm. Perhaps in the desk?" He motioned to the desk not far from Lara.

She stood. "Could it really be that simple? It's… him."

"Ah, Lara. Of course not. However I would check behind the desk. I believe your father made mention of a faux panel within the desk at some point." Winston's brow furrowed in thought. "To be frank, however, it may not be this desk."

"What?"

"When the library was almost completely restored, the original desk was on the lower level. An unfortunate chandelier travesty rendered the desk a mess. It's likely still in storage."

"It was never repaired?"

"It was, but as the antiquity it is, Lord Croft kept it away from any future accidents. It is possible some old papers are within…" Winston made his way to the fireplace, toying with the wood until the final flame died.

Lara grabbed the serving tray. "I think I'll do that."

"I'll be happy to procure a flashlight for you."


End file.
